


it's a no-regret life, krel tarron

by Euphoriette



Category: Tales of Arcadia (Cartoons)
Genre: Acceptance, Conversations, End of the World, Gen, Past Character Death, Post-Apocalypse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-28
Updated: 2021-01-28
Packaged: 2021-03-14 08:28:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 968
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29043126
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Euphoriette/pseuds/Euphoriette
Summary: Krel Tarron and the end of the world was never something that would mesh well.(It was too quiet, for one. Too damn quiet.)
Relationships: Krel Tarron & Nari
Comments: 2
Kudos: 12





	it's a no-regret life, krel tarron

**Author's Note:**

> so,,,this is ridiculously short?? its not even 1k (not even beta'd) but here ya go

So. maybe it’s morbid. But some people, as you know, might like to amuse themselves by imagining how the world would end.

Some prefer the religious way, the way that separates good and evil like those two things were ever that distant from each other. Others think that the world’s going to end in a red sky, abandoned cities and their dead grandmother knocking down their barricaded doors, intent on feasting upon gray matter.

The boring ones, the smart (but boring) ones, think the world’s going to be swallowed up by the universe itself, tired of this silly ball of mud and all it’s trouble.

You’ve wondered it, right? Maybe at night, when thoughts were fast and fleeting, you would want to know how the world would face it’s death.

Krel Tarron couldn’t tell you about that. It was quick, a flash-freeze. Dunked in ice water and pulled back out, so the only reminder you have of it is the shiver in your bones.

The after, though? He could tell about _that_.

The end of the world, was, in short, not all it was cracked up to be. Yeah, a lot happened. Yeah, a bunch of people (everyone, nearly) died. The earth was wiped clean like a chalkboard, all the scribbles and grooves and scratches, dusted away. Like it’s a newborn, pink and warm. But quiet.

After the world ended, Krel could tell you, for one thing, that it was damn quiet.

At least he didn’t watch. At least he fought. At least he won.

But he’s the only one left, so what does it matter?  
___

There’s a place Krel likes to go, when he’s not busy searching all the Earth and it’s satellites (seven new ones; Krel would know, he’s spent hours staring at them) for some semblance of life.

That place...It’s a lot of things now, loaded with some strange, frightening meaning, but when you tear that all away, what you are left with is shaped vaguely like home. _Arcadia_.

Everything’s gone of course. Everything might’ve been a nightmare if Krel wasn’t so used to those, forgot that those were separate from any other dream. Sometimes, he’ll stand in the shadow of the canal and trace a doorway, like he can escape into Trollmarket. As if Trollmarket isn’t as wiped-slate-clean as the rest of the world is.

Or maybe it isn’t. Maybe the world is still filthy and beautiful and heartbreaking because one day, Krel’s not the only one standing in the canal’s shadow, looking at the darkness eat away at the dying light.

“You have got to be fucking kidding me.” Krel says, pausing in reaching for the remnants of the setting sun spilling across the pavement. “You can’t just show up here. Not after everything.”

Beside him, Nari doesn’t chase the light like he does. She stays curled up, in the darkness, as if it can hide her.

“Krel-” Nari starts to say, voice quiet as a sob.

“You’re such a fucking coward.” Krel interrupts, like he can’t stand the sound of her. It’s said like a fact being stated, the sky is up, the grass is green, _you’re such a fucking coward_. “Do you think it was our fault? All we did was hide you away. Maybe we should have let you fight.”

Nari doesn’t say anything and Krel digs claws into her silence like an animal hunting prey.

“You would have if you really wanted to, though. I know I’m right.” he says. Catching orange light at the tips of his fingers, Krel lets the citrusy glow splay against neon blue and chuckles mirthlessly. “Great Gaylen, you really are a coward.”

Krel gets up. He’s going to get the hell out of here. He’ll come back maybe, amuse himself with Nari some more, but he’s bored. He’s bored of weaklings and silence. He’s bored of being so empty.

The end of the world, as you know, is quiet. Now is no exception.

“Please.” Nari blurts out of nowhere, pleading. She still doesn’t move though, still too fucking afraid to fight for what she wants. She’ll lay down and take it, beg like a dog panting for scraps. She’d face death lying down. “Please, Krel, I can’t- I can’t be alone anymore. Stay please, even if you hate me, I need you, I need to feel _something_ please-”

The end of the world, as everybody and their goddamn mothers know it, is quiet. Krel, for one, is sick and tired of it. He’s sick and tired of shutting up and crying soundlessly into the void of space. He’s sick and tired of all these regrets, how they pile up and bleed into him, turning him into something leaden and armored.

Not this one, though. Not this one.  
___

Some people, as you know, might like to amuse themselves by imagining how the world would end.

Krel’s done with imagining. He’s seen the world and it’s clean and quiet and it isn’t his anymore. It was once, in the stupid, oblivious past, but no longer. This earth doesn’t belong to Krel, and it hasn’t for a good, long while.

When he leaves, Nari doesn’t go after him and Krel doesn’t wait for her. He travels to the highest peak, and at the summit, stands at the edge of the sky and the sea, breathing in deep. Drinking in the sight of the clouds one last time, he thinks fondly of his home (thinks fondly of a nightmare) rotten with lost hope and ripe with old sunlight.

When Krel walks away from it all, he doesn’t look backward, not once. He just steps into the stars, into space, all the voids he’s been crying into and vanishes, like the softest of whispers.

He wasn’t the only one left. 

But what did that matter?


End file.
